


singing the chorus (to a song you never learned)

by Guzmanasol



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Regency, Arranged Marriage, F/M, Rule 63, is it still slowburn if this is pretty much them lighting a match?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 02:11:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13136937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Guzmanasol/pseuds/Guzmanasol
Summary: Jack doesn't meet her fiancé until they've been engaged for fifteen years.





	singing the chorus (to a song you never learned)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [forwardpass](https://archiveofourown.org/users/forwardpass/gifts).



> Forwardpass-- I was so excited to see how open your prompt was! I realized that, somehow, there was no regency or historical AU for these two and I decided I had to try my hand at it. Happy Holidays!
> 
> This would not have happened without Jo, who kicked my ass into both writing and not making everyone needlessly angsty. You're a superstar and I owe you a million thanks for putting up with me while I wrote this.

Jack is sure that Lady Braybrook does not mean to be so utterly infuriating. It cannot be denied, however, that regardless of her intentions, the lady in question has an unparalleled talent for staying within the confines of polite behavior yet angering everyone who speaks with her for more than a quarter hour. This evening is far from the first time that she’s made some remark about Jack’s mysterious fiancé, and how it is truly an injustice that he has never come to visit Jack and her neighbors since he came of age to visit Grand Island and to be introduced to the members of society here before he steals her away in matrimony. Unlike previous evenings, however, Jessica is not in attendance to keep Jack and her sharp tongue in check. Without her sister supervising her, Jack feels free enough and more than irritated enough to indulge in a little pointed commentary of her own. Lady Braybrook still turns a quite unflattering shade of pink when Jack inquiries about that dear, dear mutual friend of theirs—the one she was engaged to, a year or two ago? Jack hasn’t heard from Mr. Andrews or his sister in some time, perhaps Lady Braybrook is better appraised of their whereabouts and health?

The rather surprising original engagement, the sudden breaking off by Eleanor once she learned that Mr. Andrews had an uncle in trade (this, Mrs. Cuthbert always said when Jack snuck into the housekeeper's office to hear all the gossip, despite Eleanor’s father being the first land-owning gentleman in the family), renewal of said engagement despite the misgivings of almost all of the Island, and the jilting of Eleanor at the altar were the talk of the entire Island for weeks. After all, it was far more exciting than the quiet announcement of Jessica’s marriage to Charles Coyle, planned out since they were in the cradle or the speculation about which of their grandfather’s wealthy, well-connected friends would be revealed to be the one to have arranged a match involving Jack and their own offspring. The gossip involving Jack has died down, as it’s been two years of Jack being out and still no sign of the Duke or his son that Grandfather said was perfect for Jack. That does not stop, however, women who wish to get a rise out of Jack from bringing it up. The cleverer ones insinuate that no lord in his right mind would wish to marry into such a provincial family or at least not one with a reputation for daughters that are stubborn and prone to poking into estate affairs, not with all of the eligible ladies in Toronto who do not interfere with how the estate is managed in the slightest. Lady Braybrook is not one of the clever ones, but her talent is almost sufficient to make her appear so.

Noah, dear dependable Noah, manages to return from seeing his mother into a carriage to return home with a dreadful headache within seconds of Jack’s question and promptly steals Jack away from Lady Braybrook and her guests to dance a reel before dinner. Jack is grateful that he knows her temper so well, though for the sake of everyone involved she wished he hadn't stopped to speak with Mrs. Pfalzer and her daughter (oh, Noah would deny it, but he forgets that his little sister Lily often comes to tea with Jack and is far more observant at fifteen than Noah himself was. Jack and Lily both anticipate that Noah will make an offer within a year or two) and had returned early enough to prevent her jab at Lady Braybrook. By the sly look on his face, he knows that Jack is thinking of everything but the steps to this reel, though he would not be so smug if he knew the details of her thoughts. For the second time that night, Jack gives in to her impulses-- this time to step on his toes in hopes of distracting him before he can tease her about the true cause of her distraction. Like most of her impulsive plans, it fails and only serves to make a fool of her, as her heel stamps down on the floorboards at precisely the same second the musicians finish the song. Jack can feel the blush burning through her face and wishes that she had inherited more of the St. Leger composure from her mother. 

“Stamping your feet won’t make the neighborhood any more disinclined to gossip. Rather the opposite, and you know that quite well Miss Eichel,” he teases in a quiet whisper. It’s been two years since Jessica got married and Jack went from Miss Jacqueline to Miss Eichel, but it still feels quite unnatural to hear herself referred to in that way, especially from a friend that Jack has been raised from the cradle with. 

“Hush, Mr. Hanifin,” Jack’s whisper sounds more like a serpent’s hiss than she cares to admit, but it does the trick of silencing Noah. Jack will take comfort in the fact that she remembered that she mustn’t refer to Noah by his Christian name in public, as the gossip at such intimacy would be unbearable—and paint her in the same light as Eleanor. The mere thought of that was enough to make Jack shudder in revulsion and bite her tongue. Noah stayed silent as he led her into supper. Jack is grateful that they’d established the habit of saving the supper set for each other, as it guarantees her at least some pleasant conversation at each ball—and spares her from the awkwardness of inquiries about the status of her (presumed fictitious after fifteen years without an appearance) fiancé that she gets with other gentlemen.

Jack makes it a point to speak with Mr. and Mrs. Marsh, who are seated next to Jack and Noah, trusting that in doing so now they’ll be distracted by their companions on their other side, the rather boisterous elder Ryerson girls, and ensuring that they speak with them enough to be polite. Once the level of conversation in the room is loud enough to mask Jack and Noah’s whispers, Jack turns her attention to Noah.

“It’s been confirmed then?” Noah’s gaze is far too curious for Jack’s liking. Of course he knows it must pertain to the McDavid family, for that and Grandfather's poor health this past winter have been the only things that can disorient her like this. With Grandfather present and dancing tonight, there can be no concern about his health to override Jack's nerves about the mysterious McDavid family.

“Yes. We will depart for Port Dalhousie in three days, and from there for Toronto.” Jack’s hands are shaking as she tells Noah this, because Grandfather’s health is only just recovered from when he took ill in January and Jack is nervous about the impact of traveling from Grand Island to Toronto and on to the estate in Richmond Hill. But he insists that his health is all the more reason for them to make this trip, now that both the Duke of York and his second son, the Earl of Richmond Hill, are both at home and well enough to receive visitors. Noah knows this, but there’s a sharpness in his eyes that makes Jack believe that he is aware of the other fear, the one that Jack didn’t confess in the letters hidden in the oak tree halfway between their homes. 

After all, it is not every day that one is going to meet their fiancé for the first time in the fifteen years since they were engaged. If Jack had known at age six that she would reach her majority before meeting him, she might have asked what was the point of this arrangement. At one and twenty, Jack still has moments of questioning why Grandfather and Duke McDavid went to the trouble of arranging a match if neither seemed inclined to actually take an action to bring the match to fruition.

It is not, Jack knows, strictly their fault or responsibility. Truly, there was nothing to blame but rotten luck as the reason that they had not met yet. Originally, the intention was for Connor, Lord Richmond Hill, to attend the men’s academy in St. Catharines when it was time for him to begin his education outside of his home at age twelve. A fire destroying the academy was an unfortunate accident, one that saw him instead being schooled at St. George’s in Erie—much too far away for the series of dinners and picnics that the Duchess and Jack’s mama had planned. It was sufficient distance, in fact, that he did not return to his own family until he was fifteen and old enough to begin studying with tutors at University in Toronto. 

When they were both sixteen, the yearly spread of influenza claimed an unprecedented number of victims—among them Jack’s own parents, though sparing Jessica, Jack, and their grandfather. It had been agreed via extensive correspondence that introducing Jack and Connor while the former was still in mourning was utterly improper. By the time of her 18th birthday, Canadian forces had been sent just to the north to contain a rowdy American unit that had taken issue with the blockage of French ships from American harbors and wished to inform the Canadians of their opposition to such behavior most stridently. The forces were outmatched quickly, and it was a surreal two years of of skirmishes all along the American and Canadian border, making traveling impossible. It was as if fate, every time Jack thought she would finally meet this man she has been hearing of for years, decided that it must play a joke and who could be a better target than her?

 

A week after her conversation with Noah, Jack is on deck of the ferry from Port Dalhousie to Toronto watching the city draw closer. It’s strange to see summer on the city, as Jack has only ever visited in winter (and even that, they have not done in several years), when Amherst Park does not need as much of her or her grandfather’s attention. They traveled by carriage then, as Lake Ontario is too dangerous to sail across with winter temperatures and winds. Jack has the idle thought that should the Earl be a man that she can stand to be married to, that there is every possibility that she will see both Toronto and the county of York as a whole in all of the seasons. That hinges, of course, on the assumption that her fiancé is not utterly repulsive and that they both find each other pleasant enough to actually begin a courtship. Given her observations of the gentlemen in both Grand Island and in Toronto, Jack has her doubts about that. 

As the breeze picks up, Jack retreats to the passenger lounge for some tea and one last chance to review the plans for selling the berries being grown and canning a portion of each kind. This will be the first season that the former Pominville estate has been restored enough to expect a harvest, and Jack’s steward, Mr. Diffley, has outlined what she can expect to see harvested, roughly what quantities and when, and his recommendations for the markets to sell at. Truly, it is Grandfather who should be handling this correspondence, but he insisted that both Jessica and Jack learn to run Amherst Park as preparation for inheriting the estates his father had made a habit of collecting. While some had been sold off or passed down to distant cousins, Jessica and Charles had been presented with the house and land in Roosevelt Beach as a wedding present, and Grandfather said that the house on Grand Island would pass to Jessica as well upon his passing, but that Jack would inherit Amherst Park and now the Pominville estate. 

“Are all of the reports satisfactory, Jacqueline?” Grandfather asks, voice missing the whisper wheeze that had plagued him all spring. Jack grins, because the lake air agrees with Grandfather quite well and it appears her fears about how his health would handle the trip are needless. 

“I would venture so far as to call them excellent. Though,” she pauses, “we do need to think of another name for the old Pominville estate. The family sold it more than one hundred years ago, and it’s absurd that none of the other owners ever gave it another name.” 

Grandfather laughs at that, as he does every time Jack tries to get him to suggest a name or offer his thoughts on names she suggests. They’d bought the estate four years ago, and Jack had begun thinking of names from the moment that Grandfather had signed the contract. “My dear, we have the remainder of this boat ride and then a carriage ride left to us—that is more than enough time for us to find a name.”

 

 

They settle on Gracemeadow by the time Jack is being handed out of the carriage and her nerves come rushing back. She has a nagging suspicion that Grandfather only debated the names so vigorously after such a long time because he was hoping to distract her from her nerves about meeting the Duke and his son. It was an effective tactic, but Jack objects to being handled like that on principle. She bites back her rebuke as they are shown into the sitting room at McDavid House.

“Mac! You’re looking well for a man who spends his days insisting he’s too unwell to take his place in the house of lords,” Grandfather chortles as the Duke flushes and nods, smile warming a stern face. Jack watches them out of the corner of her eye, but her focus is on the smiling woman next to his Grace, and on the man next to her. He’s of a similar height to Jack, and as she draws closer she realizes that he is very likely only an inch or so shorter, perhaps not even that much. Before it can become awkward, Grandfather and Duke York cease teasing each other and see to the introductions.

“Duke McDavid, allow me to introduce to you my youngest granddaughter, Miss Jacqueline Eichel.” Grandfather tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow and walked forward, close enough for Jack to see that the Duke’s eyes were a sharp blue even as she dipped into a curtsy and nodded, “Your Grace.” 

When she straightened up, she had the curious sensation of being assessed—and being found not just acceptable, but pleasing. She kept her attention on Lord McDavid, ignoring the eyes she could feel watching her from only a few feet away.

“Miss Eichel, it is a pleasure to meet you. Please, allow me to introduce to you my wife Lady McDavid, Duchess of York, and my son Lord McDavid, Earl of Richmond Hill,” the Duke says, arm gesturing to his family to come closer while his eyes remained on Jack. Jack spared a moment to be grateful that the folds of Grandfather’s jacket hid the way her hand tightened on his arm. 

“Miss Eichel, welcome to our home,” her Grace steps forward, tugging her son along with her, “we’re so glad to finally have an opportunity to host you here.”

“Thank you for your invitation, Your Grace, Lord McDavid,” Jack dips into another curtsy, but this time she can’t resist the temptation to glance at Lord McDavid. He catches her looking, and Jack flushes in embarrassment. And the introduction had been going so well!

She has no time to brood over embarrassing herself, as Lady McDavid proposes a picnic out in the garden instead of spending a beautiful afternoon having tea indoors. The party agrees, and Lord McDavid… Connor, Connor offers his arm to escort her to the garden. He’s quiet during the walk to the corner of the garden that has been set up for this. Jack can’t tell if he is arrogant and thinks her unsuitable or if he is merely shy, like Lord Benn was before he married Tyler. As the afternoon passes with pleasant conversation about years gone by and places travelled, Jack begins to think that Connor is not shy nor arrogant, but rather very used to having a more boisterous companion with him that he serves as the serious foil to, much like Jessica is to Jack. She decides that the best way to know with certainty is to tease him, and see what he reveals about himself in his answer.

“Lord McDavid, does the sunshine disagree with you?,” Jack asks, pitching her voice so that it is Connor and not his father who looks at her when she says Lord McDavid. She has a moment of guilt when it appears that she’s startled him terribly, but that passes quickly.

“Not at all! Dare I ask what gave you the impression that something was not pleasing to me?” he asks her, eyes lifting to meet hers rather than continue to stare into his teacup. Jack is startled for a moment, as she would have sworn that his eyes were blue in the sitting room, but out here in the sunlight they’re a shade between gray and blue that she can’t name but quite likes.

“Why, you’ve been silent! Normally, sunlight and a breeze like this has the effect of charming everyone outside and turning us into chattering birds. I thought that perhaps your silence meant that you were unaffected by the influence all of the charms present today!” In the three short years Jack has been out in polite society, she’s learned how to needle gentlemen into upholding their share of conversation when they seem inclined to silence. Some of them (if Jack is honest, her favorites) rise to the occasion when she points out their deficit, a very few will be able to offer a sincere compliment by singling out a lady in attendance as being so becomingly dressed as to render them speechless, and an unfortunate number will take offense and attempt to say something cutting to Jack (attempt being the key word there. Few who take offense are witty enough to engage with Jack in a mood and walk away victorious). 

“You’re quite right about all of the charms present, and I apologize for my distraction—but then, how else could I ensure I had the lion’s share of your attention?” His smile is not like Noah’s or Erik’s, intentionally charming. Rather, it’s an earnest one and Jack finds herself blushing more than she ever did when Mr. Karlsson flirted with her.

“Ask me a question, or offer to show me the rest of the garden. Perhaps tell me something about yourself—you have several options that I assure you would command all of my attention,” Jack replies, and bites her lip against the laugh that wants to pop out at his chagrined smile. He’s so earnest, and Jack’s unsure of what to do with that. He’s dispelled the worst of her worries about him being a tyrant, but lingering ones about him being a bore or a fool or so disinclined to society that she’ll shrivel away in the countryside have yet to see anything to discredit them. 

“Since you’ve been so kind to suggest, would you allow me to show you the rest of the gardens? I promise they are as full of sunlight and charm as this corner.”

Jack nods, and they inform the rest of their company of their intent to stroll and explore the garden. They’re sent off with no chaperone, as the contents and layout of the garden mean that everywhere they could go is visible from the benches and chair occupied by Grandfather and Lord and Lady McDavid. It does not, however, mean that they are going to be in earshot. Jack resolves to take this opportunity to try and take the measure of the younger Lord McDavid. 

He seems to have a similar resolution, and manages to catch her off guard while showing her the rose variety created for his mother upon her marriage to his father, a large bloom with a beautiful sunset pink at the center that takes on tinges of crimson towards the petals.

“While I am sure that the formal invitation is being extended to Mr. Eichel as we speak, I would wish to share some news that I think you’ll be pleased by-- my mother is hosting one of her dinners on Thursday night, and I have been told the guests are known to you. Mr. and Mrs. Moulson, along with Lord and Lady Benn will be present, and I hope the opportunity to see them will serve to entice you to return despite my earlier silence.”

His smile takes on a slightly smug tilt, and Jack doesn’t bother to bite back her laugh. Moulson and Alicia, Benn and Tyler, all in one party? A party that by all appearances will be unattended by the Lady Braybrooks and the like? A more tempting offer could not be made. Jack was thankful she had his arm to help keep her upright through the last of her chuckles as they resumed their slow exploration of the garden. 

“I will correct your assessment in two areas—I am delighted by this news, and rather than claim to knowing them, I will admit that I hold both of the couples you mentioned in the greatest esteem, and Alicia and Tyler as my dearest friends. Truly, I can think of no invitation that I have been more eager to accept.”

“Then I am glad to have foiled my mother’s plan to surprise you at dinner. But I will implore you for your assistance in hiding my treachery.” 

“My assistance has a price, Lord McDavid, and I would recommend hearing it before you request such support from me.”

“Name your price then! I will pay anything to avoid my mother’s disappointment.” He even darts a cautious look over at his mother, who is teasing his father about something by the smiles on their faces. 

“I merely wish to receive answers to some of the questions that have been on my mind since we received the invitation to be introduced almost a month ago. It has been just over a year since the border skirmishes—why is it just now that you are making an attempt to become acquainted with me?” Jack holds her breath after asking, because this is an audacious question that has a high possibility of making this afternoon very uncomfortable, but she has to know why now. This “engagement” endured fifteen years without them meeting, and seemed set to melt away like the first snow, leaving no trace behind. 

“Because shortly before the skirmishes, I was informed that there was… a gentleman of your acquaintance who you were anticipated to make a match with in the wake of your sister’s own match being announced. I presumed to give you a chance to pursue your happiness,” Jack idly speculates that the only thing keeping her tethered to this moment is Connor’s hand over hers on his arm, and the slight squeeze he absentmindedly gives it before he continues, “but I have since been corrected that there is no attachment between the two of you, and so I resolved to see if it was possible that we might both pursue our happiness…together.”

They take another turn, this time towards the most stunning hyacinth Jack has ever seen, mulling over the question and answer. 

“You said you had questions, and I have only answered the one. What were the others?” Connor asks her, voice not quite low enough to be called a whisper. It’s still low enough to send a shiver down Jack’s spine. It takes her a heartbeat to remember what she was going to ask.

“Is it possible then?,” Jack asks, heart thumping in her chest. She’s not sure what she wants the answer to be, or if she even wants an answer at all.

“You would doubt the sincerity of my answer, as well as question my intelligence, if I were to answer that now, after not even a full afternoon—and I would be forced to agree that your doubt was the proper answer,” Connor tells her. The brightness of his eyes when Jack looks at him gives away his playful intent, though there’s a seriousness to his face that intrigues Jack. 

“If you can’t reply now, what do you suggest we do? My curiosity is insatiable,” Jack tells him. Jessica calls her a little terrier, the way she seizes onto things and will not relent. 

“Insatiable, and prone to getting you into some amusing scrapes, should Tyler be believed about some incidents involving a beech tree and another involving oranges when you visited her last year,” and Connor is most decidedly teasing her now. Jack quite approves. Though she wonders at whatever could have motivated Tyler to share those stories in particular. She resolves to ask Tyler the moment she can arrange to call on her. For now, she has an answer to acquire from Connor and he seems inclined to weasel out of it unless she presses him. 

“Attempting to evade this question? I’m surprised, my lord, it seems unlike you to shy away from keeping your promises,” and if that doesn’t manage to needle his sense of duty into answering, Jack will have to come up with something drastic. She won’t leave without an answer.

“Merely playing for more time to think of a suitable answer. And I believe I might have struck upon one.”

“Oh? Will that answer be shared with me?”

“Of course. Who am I to deny your curiosity? I suggest that we take the length of your visit to both assess the requirements of that possibility you inquired about, and our ability to meet those requirements. At the end, we can confer about our conclusions and proceed from there,” Connor tells her as they circle back around to where his parents and Grandfather wait for them. Jack’s prevented from giving an answer as they’re caught up in the flurry of a dinner invitation for Thursday and farewells and being shown out into their carriage. 

 

Dinner on Thursday evening is far more informative than Jack had dared to hope. Duke and Duchess McDavid are ideal hosts, the gentlemen are delighted to welcome Grandfather to their conference, and the post-dinner separation is full of gentle teasing and whole-hearted encouragement by Alicia and Tyler to further her acquaintance with Connor, and allow this engagement to progress to a proper courtship (which, Tyler whispers to her as Alicia and Lady McDavid choose sheet music for the pianoforte in the sitting room, should by her assessment end quite successfully in a well-matched marriage). Jack is inclined to trust the judgement of both women, and Lady McDavid issues a series of invitations that will dominate Jack’s time in Toronto and ensure that she has ample opportunity to become acquainted with Connor. 

Her goodwill towards the match suffers a blow on Saturday morning, when the first batch of letters from Grand Island arrives and she has to resume the business of running two estates and handle her social correspondence. Jack is not arrogant when she says that she is a good mistress to her tenants, and that both Amherst Park and Gracemeadow are flourishing in her care. She is reluctant to surrender the running of both to her husband, and she suspects she will meddle and interfere in the way that the Island has long decried as most improper if at any moment he seems to be failing to achieve the standards she has set for the management of her estates. For all that she has come to know him as an affable and clever conversationalist, she knows nothing of him as a lord or landlord, and she cannot bring herself to seriously entertain the possibility of marrying him without knowing these things. 

With this in mind, she accepts Tyler’s invitation to go out riding through the nearby countryside in the hopes that being on horseback will bring her clarity. It is a stroke of poor fortune that the recent rain has made most of the Benn land too difficult to ride through, but one that is more than made up for by the fact that Tyler and her husband are neighbors to Connor’s estate --which has been spared much of the mud, at least along the border of the two. Tyler is apparently a frequent rider on his land, as she sets off with no hesitation along a path that Jack had not noticed previously. 

Jack and Tyler, when they are the only ones making up their riding party, forgo sitting sidesaddle as is proper and revel in riding astride. It makes races much more fun, and they spend the afternoon chasing each other through stunning meadows and through small creeks that crisscross the estate like veins. 

It is hours after they started out that Tyler pulls up by a brook to allow her gelding to rest, and Jack follows suit. They’ve yet to encounter anyone else all day, which is why the sound of voices and hooves startles them both. Connor and a man Jack doesn’t recognize round the hill on the other side of the brook and allow their horses to head towards the water much like Jack and Tyler had a few moments ago. Judging by the saddlebags stuffed with notebooks and his attire, Jack feels reasonable confident in saying that this man must be Connor’s steward. 

“Lady Benn, Miss Eichel. Enjoying your ride?”

Tyler answers for them, listing which meadows and trails they have been on, and Jack takes the opportunity to asses Connor. He doesn’t seem surprised that she and Tyler are riding astride, likely because he’s found Tyler like this before, and proceeds to speak with them as if this is merely a pleasant afternoon meeting. He is, however, lightly coated in mud from ankle to just below his hip—as is his steward. Jack wonders where the field they must have been surveying was, as all of the land to the northwest along the border with the Benn estate has only had a few inches of mud or still water on the ground. No, she realizes after further contemplation of the pair, the mud is only mud up to the knees. From knee to hip, it’s merely dirty water. So, they surveyed a muddy field and had to cross a high river to get to the next one. It’s only a guess, and Jack cannot abide merely guessing when the source of a definitive answer is so easily accessible in the form of both Connor and his steward. His steward is close enough that Jack can ask, and her curiosity demands that she do so.

“Is the river you crossed just over the hill behind you, or further back on the land by the fields?” 

“It’s roughly two kilometers back, and incredibly high, so I would recommend not crossing this brook and proceeding to it unless you have a particular desire to ruin your dresses,” to Jack’s surprise it’s Connor who answers. 

“Thank you. Have you been out all day?” If they have, the estate must be even larger than Jack had thought, as she had been under the impression she and Tyler had ridden across the majority of it. 

“Since sunrise. We knew around midnight last night that there was likely to be flooding in the fields and in some of the tenants’ houses, and the sooner we assess who needs to be moved until we can rebuild the better we can make plans to recover.”

Jack nods in approval. That is precisely what she would do in this situation. 

“We still have the woods and the far meadow to asses, ladies. If you are amenable to it, Mr. Jones and I will ride with you back to the boundary. Assessing the woods will be much more pleasant with such good company.” 

“That sounds wonderful, and I hope Mr. Jones will be so kind as to assist me in identifying a type of wildflower that I saw earlier,” Tyler answers as she forgoes subtlety to arrange matters to her liking, again. The path is too narrow to ride more than two aside, and with Mr. Jones riding up next to her, that leaves Connor and Jack to follow. 

“How many of your tenants have experienced flooding?” Jack has to know, wants to know how he’s handling this as lord and landlord. 

“Four families along the Red Creek. The Millers and the Blythes both have grown children who lease from me along the northern edge of the property in Marsham that will take them in while we begin to rebuild their cottages from where the water took out the foundations. George Taylor has just started leasing from me, and is a bachelor. He’ll live with his brother up the hill during our repairs. The Bagley family has no relatives to house them, and four children not yet grown. They’ll be moved into a former hunting cabin for the time being, and their cottage will be the first to have repairs started.” 

Jack nodded again, unsure of what to say. He had not asked for her opinion or her approval, and to voice either unprompted seemed rude. Connor asked her a question before the silence could stretch too long.

“Are your lands prone to flooding after heavy rains? You seem familiar with the signs, and with the struggles of cleaning up after.”

“They are not terribly prone,” Jack tells him, pleased that he doesn’t seem put out by her inquiring into estate affairs, “though four years ago we suffered the loss of most of the spring crop due to that year’s unusually heavy rainfall. But then, so did everyone south of Lake Ontario that year. We have been fortunate enough to recover well, in part because we acted more swiftly than others when it came time to begin repairs and did not suffer the lack of materials and labor that others who waited did.”

Connor nods, and they fall silent as they follow behind Tyler and Mr. Jones. It’s not an uncomfortable silence like on other outings Jack has suffered through. They both have had incredibly busy days, and are even more appreciative of the peace than usual because of that.

It gives Jack time to consider Connor—not just as a conversationalist or a dinner partner, but as a landlord. She’s pleased with him in all those areas. To be out at first light requires waking well before sunrise, and implies a sense of dedication. Assessing the needs of your community and then acting swiftly to meet those needs is something Jack has seen to many other young gentlemen fail to do, and the knowledge of the families of who are leasing his land and their connections to each other speaks to a landlord who knows his tenants and acts fairly and compassionately towards them. Beyond that, he does not deceive ladies or offer false flatteries. He is a well read, thoughtful man—and one who posses a singular ability to make Jack laugh. Perhaps most important of all, he has never decried her interest in how he runs his estate as unladylike or criticized the time she dedicates to running her own estates. 

It is not enough for Jack to agree to marry him immediately. It is enough, however, for her to consider with pleasure the possibility of marrying him and pursuing their happiness together. That is, after all, all that Connor had requested she consider during her time in Toronto. And if she is this pleased with the man she is engaged to already, Jack can only imagine much more pleased she’ll be by the end of her visit. She’ll keep it to herself for now—after all, the summer is long and she would hate to remove his incentive to find new ways to surprise and impress her so early in the season. He is a man that thrives on exceeding expectations, and she is a woman who thrives upon surprises-- neither of them would be pleased to lose such an opportunity to play to their respective strengths.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote over 6K of a much more angsty, dramatic Regency AU that was lovingly researched and only like 20% handwaved. And then I realized at 11:59 on the 22nd I had no idea how to finish it. So I wrote this in like ~24 hours. This version is like 35% handwaved, a solid 900% happier, and actually done in time. I'm here to answer any questions, regency or otherwise, that come up.


End file.
